


reaction and release

by kimaracretak



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Biting, Coming Untouched, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, F/F, Magic, Magical Bondage, Mild Praise Kink, Sex Magic, Smut as Character Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-05 23:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15181262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/pseuds/kimaracretak
Summary: Jester takes it upon herself to make Beau behave during sex. Beau is more than happy to oblige, as long as she gets to be alittlebit of a brat about it.





	reaction and release

**Author's Note:**

> The union, the divine  
> When I touch you and I taste you I only want to be inside  
>  _Reaction and release_  
>  There’s something that’s stirring deep in me  
> \- "[Body Politics](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o4XP6tZZnKc)", IAMX
> 
> For the kinkmeme prompt: beau giving up a lot of control to jester, basically. jester using magic to dom beau is also a plus.

"So," Jester says.

Or, at least, that's what her mouth says. When Beau looks over at her, Jester's eyes are saying something more like _I am up to no good and you will be too very soon._

That's fine. That's good, even. Mischievous Jester is better than sad Jester. Last night sad Jester used up all the tissues in the room and didn't put any of them in the bin.

"What," Beau says flatly, but with less wariness than she might once have. "If this is about drawing me again, I thought we knew how things like me and sitting still go along."

Which was to say, they didn't. Last time Jester had tried to draw her, she had ended up in Beau's lap trying to stop her from squirming. Of course you couldn't really draw someone when you were sitting in their lap, but by then they'd moved on to much more pleasurable kinds of squirming, so it didn't actually matter.

And then Beau's mind catches up to the fact that Jester's pulled her dress off over her head and she now looks positively _hungry_ , and thinks maybe she's not actually that far off track.

"It's not about drawing you," Jester says with a wicked grin, and Beau swallows hard. Oh yeah, she's definitely up for whatever mischief Jester has planned. "But technically it might be about you sitting still. Technically."

"I'm listening," Beau says, and tries to think about something other than how desperately she is aware of every inch of Jester's skin, and how the sight of so much blue is making her own skin burn.

It doesn't work, but then again, Beau had given up on that weeks ago.

"Good," Jester says cheerfully. If she's noticed Beau's internal struggle she isn't mentioning it, which is actually kinda sweet, in Jester-land. "Because you do not listen when I tell stories at night. And so I was thinking, you know, that action is better for you anyway."

"Right. Action." Beau drags her gaze away from Jester's breasts. Sure she has permission to stare, but it still feels kinda weird, even if she's pretty sure she knows exactly the kind of action Jester has in mind. "What sort of story ... action ... were you thinking of?"

"Well for one thing, you think being swept up by big strong ladies is hot," Jester says, hands teasing at the edges of her underthings before pulling them all the way off to land on the floor. "Do not lie to me, Beau, I have seen you looking at my arms."

"They're really good arms," Beau defends herself, aware that she's really just proving Jester's point here.

Jester brightens with sudden interest, flexing experimentally. "Really good, hm? So if you were going to rank my arms on a scale of, say, one to ten...?"

Beau's mouth goes dry with the sudden realisation that she's almost certainly walked into a trap. A trap that's gonna be pretty fucking cool if she plays it right. "Maybe, uh, 'bout a seven and a half?"

Jester's face falls, and for a moment Beau's stomach swoops with the dreadful certainty that she's gone and been a little too much of an asshole. But then Jester says "Oh, _Beau_ ," voice breathy with promise, and stalks towards her with a predator's eyes, and, nope, definitely the right side of the asshole line.

"That is not a very good answer, Beau. I think maybe you were lying to me, hm? And now you will be punished."

Beau has time to say, "I think I'd probably deserve that," and then Jester pushes lightly at her shoulders — not even a push at all, there's no way it'd move Beau if she didn't want it to — and Beau collapses back on the bed, spread-eagled and waiting.

"The first part of your punishment," Jester informs her, following her into the bed surprising grace and straddling Beau's hips, "Is that you do not get to move much. At all, technically, unless I say so."

Beau whines, because that's unfair, it really is. Jester's so naked and within such easy reach, and Beau's cunt is already throbbing impatiently.

"No whining," Jester says, placing a cold finger against Beau's lips. "Then everyone will hear us."

"Don't care," Beau says petulantly. It's something of a point of pride for her, how loud she can make Jester get when they're in bed, and she'd like it if the same held true for Jester as well.

Jester just narrows her eyes. "Then Mollymauk will be insufferable for weeks, and I will be insufferable right back, and you will have to kill us both."

Beau frowns. That's a little too much of a mood killer, and Jester seems to sense it.

"Second rule," she says brightly. "I get to come first."

"Easy," Beau says with confidence, though the word comes out breathier than she'd meant it to and, as Jester's grin widens, she wonders if she's perhaps too overconfident.

Jester rolls her hips, and it's so easy for Beau to feel the heat of her, such a contrast to the chill of the rest of Jester's skin. Beau groans, eyes fixed on the deep blue curls of Jester's pubic hair, starting to glisten against the lighter blue of Beau's pants. She reaches out, wanting Jester's tits, her stomach, anything, fingertips buzzing with the need to touch, but Jester leans back, eyes twinkling. "Nuh-uh," she says, "Not yet," and then she's diving forward, flattening herself against Beau with such force that Beau can only sigh into the searching kiss Jester presses against her lips.

"Not yet," Jester says when she sits up again, leaving Beau licking her lips and refusing to whine. "Touch me how I want you to."

Beau blinks, brow furrowing once more, but this time in concern. "Always, Jester," she says. "However you want. You know how it goes." Jester's just as bossy in bed as she is in battle, and it's one of Beau's favourite things about her — she's loud and unashamed and _fun_ , and Beau can just lie back and narrow all her focus down to making her scream.

Beau reaches up with both hands this time, strokes over the powerful muscles of Jester's arms, and this time Jester lets her, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. "What if," she starts, and there's a undertone of uncertainty to her voice that makes Beau still her hands. "What if you really, _really_ couldn't move?"

"You — you wanna tie me up?" The thought kinda makes her entire brain come screaming to a halt, because she can see it almost too clearly: tied wrists to headboard and ankles to footboard, her cunt wet and open and throbbing for Jester, who would ignore it, would instead straddle Beau's face and ride her until Beau can't breathe for drowning in the scent and taste of her, a fucking perfect death in between Jester's thighs —

"Not exactly," Jester says, and Beau groans in disappointment as that image fizzles out. "I was thinking, making you really really not move with magic."

Beau watches as Jester bites her lip and trails a finger down the valley between her breasts, entirely unprepared for the wave of _want_ that provokes in her. "Fuck, Jester," she finally manages. "I. Fuck." She sinks further into the bed, boneless with desire.

"Is that a yes?" Jester asks hopefully.

Beau grins, and musters just enough control of herself to buck her hips up against Jester encouragingly. She's sticky with their mingled arousal between her legs now, but the discomfort is nothing compared to the promise that Jester's dangling in front of her. "Hell yes it is," she says, and it's totally worth it when Jester claps her hands with glee.

"Okay," she says. "Okay, okay, okay, I am going to position you just like ..." She slides off Beau, spreads Beau's legs and runs a tantalising finger over her cunt through the fabric. Beau grits her teeth, remembering her promise that she would get Jester off first. Probably a good thing she soon won't be able to move, she thinks, as Jester presses an open-mouthed kiss to her stomach.

"Arm here," Jester says, folding Beau's right arm over her stomach, "And your hand like _this_." Her pinky and ring finger folded down, the other two pointed straight up, her thumb spread apart to form an L-shape and, _oh_ , suddenly Beau knows _exactly_ what Jester's gonna do to her, and she damn near comes on the spot.

"You ... _fuck_ ," she says, drawing in a shaky breath.

"Yes." Jester leans down to kiss her again, and Beau slides her tongue into Jester's mouth eagerly, taking advantage of movement while she still has the capacity for it. "Do not worry, Beau," she whispers against her mouth. "That is exactly what you are going to do to me shortly."

Beau means to say _good_ , she really does, but the word dies somewhere between her brain and her mouth when Jester straddles her again, poised right over her hand so Beau's fingertips are just brushing her wetness — _so wet, when did she get so wet?_ — and then Jester's hand is on her throat and this time when she says "Don't move" Beau — _can't_.

The compulsion is a shock even though she knows it's coming, is ready for it because Jester can do anything she wants on nights like this and Beau will take anything happily. She can't lick her lips, can't touch — and that's still not fair, but, _fuck_ , it's worth it as Jester sinks down onto Beau's frozen fingers like they're just another one of the toys they've played with before and it's almost unreal, how hot it is.

If she could speak she would be begging, she thinks, but as it is, all she can do is watch, mesmerised, as Jester fucks herself on Beau's hand, angles herself so Beau's thumb brushes against her clit. Beau feels like she's floating, utterly detached from her paralysed body but wholly responsible for Jester's pleasure, and it's intoxicating, better than any of the drugs she's tried with Molly.

"Good, Beau," Jester moans. Beau watches the muscles in her legs flex as she moves up and down, the mattress creaking under her knees. "You are so very good for me like this, I think I will need to do this more often. Make you my good girl."

Beau wishes she could nod, say _please_ , say _yes, anything for you_ , anything and everything to get Jester to say _good girl_ in that tone of voice again, but all she can do is watch, and feel the rough hot _perfect_ drag of Jester's cunt against her hand as she moves, and burn to be touched.

And then Jester's tail slaps her cunt right as the Hold Person spell fades, and then Beau _screams_.

" _Beau_ ," Jester whines, not stopping her movements, and reaches down to cover her mouth with the hand that isn't braced against the bed. Beau nips lightly at the skin, not enough to hurt but definitely enough to be a brat, because where's the fun in not? "I am shutting you up again," Jester says.

The second spell freezes Beau before she can protest, not that she would. "And," Jester continues, "Since that deserves a punishment too, technically, you should make me come twice before I touch you."

It's less of a threat than it might have been, since Jester's tail is still flicking against Beau's cunt in time with Jester's own rhythm against Beau's hand, pressing between her covered lips but not sipping fully inside, a reminder of how fully under Jester's control she is.

Jester's so captivating as she moves above her that for the long minute of the spell Beau thinks she could behave without it, could be content to watch and to listen to the quiet litany of moans and _good girl_ s spilling from Jester's mouth. And then sensation comes back almost too soon, a wave crashing over her as Jester sinks down once more, and she curls her fingers instinctively as her cunt clenches near-painfully on nothing.

"Beau -" Jester starts, but anything else is lost as Beau smirks up at her, drags her nail over Jester's clit and Jester's gone, half-collapsing over Beau and insistently searching out her lips again, Beau kisses her back obligingly, strokes her through her orgasm as best she can at the angle, and when Jester's stopped shaking, turns her head just enough to close her teeth around one earlobe.

"You're being a brat," Jester informs her, tugging her head free and sitting back, two of Beau's fingers still nestled inside her. "No one is ever such a brat in the stories."

Beau's grin widens. "You're reading boring stories, then. Besides, wasn't tonight about being better than the stories?"

Jester covers her mouth again for that, squeezes til Beau feels her lips purse enough that speech is lost to her once more. "Technically it was about making you pay attention to me, technically," she says with a grin of her own, one that shows her teeth and has Beau tilting her head in hopes of a bite. "And also about you getting me off again."

Beau wriggles her hips, drives her fingers a little deeper into Jester. "Gonna let me use my hands this time?"

"Nope!" Jester says cheerfully, and Beau hardly has time to be disappointed before Jester's thighs flex and she lifts herself off Beau's fingers and knee-walks up the bed. Beau's blood sings in anticipation, distracting her from the brief flicker of awareness that she's still fully clothed. "You get to use your mouth. I am trusting you not to use your hands, okay? Because I have other things to use Hold Person for and it might be dangerous right now."

"No hands," Beau agrees, and immediately realises that her hands were already hovering near Jester's hips, ready to pull her down against her mouth. She places them carefully back on the bed, fists her hands in the sheets, and when she tilts her head back to see Jester's face she thinks the approval in her eyes might kill her on the spot. "Now no hands."

"Good," Jester says, more than a little breathless and still glimmering with the evidence of her first orgasm on Beau's fingers, and then she lowers herself to Beau's mouth and, yes, this the only place she wants to be ever again, trapped between Jester's thighs, willing and waiting for whatever Jester wants her to do.

The novelty of the thought is just as overwhelming as Jester's taste, Jester's scent - a sort of trust she hadn't known was missing from her life, that it hadn't occurred to her to think of, to want. But it feels right, here with Jester, right to twist her neck on the inn's shitty pillow to lick into the sweet molten heat of her, right to feel the tense ache in her scalp as Jester directs her head.

It doesn't take much for Jester to come again, not when Beau gives in to the direction and gets her mouth positioned so she can close her lips around Jester's clit and suck. Jester topples off to the side, sticky and sated, and leans in for another kiss, searching out her taste on Beau's tongue. She hums happily against Beau's mouth, kisses slow and languid like she's not well aware Beau's so turned on she might vibrate out of her skin.

"You were very good, Beau," she says. "See? Being still is not so difficult if you think about it, right?"

Beau just groans in response, and Jester giggles, shimmying down the bed with unhurried grace. "It is fine. I liked it when you weren't talking, too. Now I think it is my turn for fun, because even though you are a brat you are my very good friend. My very good girl."

Beau considers responding to that, but Jester's hands are all over her, cupping her tits, pinching at her nipples, stroking over her abs, and she could no more speak now that she could while enchanted. Jester, of course, is not going to let that stand.

"Tell me," she says. "Tell me what you want for your reward. Or I will do nothing, and you can wait until next time that we play."

"Just —" Beau breaks off with a frustrated noise as Jester's nails scrape over her stomach a little too sharply to be fun. "Just rip them, or something, you know, be strong?"

"Oh yes," Jester breathes, before proceeding to do just that and. Fuck. Fuck. Beau's gonna die before she even gets entirely naked, isn't she? "I will cast mending on them in the morning, do not worry," Jester reassures her as she lifts Beau's hips and works the remnants of her pants off. "They will be as good as new, except better, because then they will be Jester pants, yes?"

"Jester pants," Beau agrees hazily. She's more concerned with wriggling around, trying to persuade Jester to get rid of her underthings too.

"Yes," Beau groans, too far gone to worry about volume. "Yes, Jester, just like that, thank you, please —" She's close, so close already just from getting Jester off, and she's not going to last —

— and then Jester pulls back, licking her lips, clamps her hand over Beau's cunt and Beau feels her whole body seize up again, unable to react to the overwhelming pressure as Hold Person takes her again.

"I don't think you can come like this," Jester says conversationally, grinding the heel of her palm into Beau's clit, and Beau would howl if she could. "But I am curious, okay? And you have always been so good about helping me figure new things out."

She's not wrong, but in the past helping Jester figure things out has tended to involve more falling out of trees and starting brawls. Fun, yes, but Beau resolves on the spot that they need to figure out way more things about magic in bed like this.

Jester takes her hand away, leaving Beau utterly bereft for the next forty-three seconds. Beau counts them, silent in her head, while her whole body aches to be touched Jester watches with bright, delighted curiosity.

"I can do that two more times," Jester says when Beau can move again, twitching helplessly back towards Jester's hands. "I think next time I will touch you the whole time to see how much you can feel. For science."

Beau just nods, certain that if she diverts any mental energy to reply she'll come on the spot, and while every nerve in her body is screaming for it, she's going to wait for Jester's permission. She always waits for Jester's permission.

Jester makes her wait for it though, slides her fingers through Beau's slick folds and traps her clit between two fingers while the other hand plays idly with her breasts until Beau's built right back up to the edge, so tense that she almost doesn't notice the spell. It's only when Jester roughly slips three fingers inside her, when she tries to buck up into the touch and can't, that she realises what's happened.

"Oh," Jester says softly. "Your muscles are very strong, Beau. I think maybe this one will not be repeated."

But she doesn't try to pull her fingers out, just licks her lips and closes her eyes and smiles contentedly, and Beau feels a sudden rush of affection that's quickly overwhelmed by pure lightning sensation as Jester presses her thumb against her clit. Beau can't moan, can't shudder, can't come but fuck if this isn't even better than some orgasms she's had, every touch magnified by her immobility.

"I am going to take my hand back when the spell ends," Jester says, eyes wide and dark with lingering arousal, "And then you are going to come for me, Beau, okay?"

 _Okay_ , Beau thinks, _more than okay_ , and Jester must see some of that in her eyes because she smiles bright like the sun.

She tries to count, again, but she keeps losing track, the buzz of pleasure wiping away each number as soon as she's thought them. But then Jester says "Now," and Beau doesn't even have time to feel empty before she feels herself arching off the bed, coming so hard she's pretty sure she's seeing literal fucking stars like she's somehow managed to fly up to the roof, unaware of anything but the figments of light spread over blue, blue like Jester, blue like the waves of pleasure burning through her again and again until she thinks they might never stop.

When Beau can see again her head is pillowed in Jester's lap, Jester's fingers coming through her sweaty, tangled hair. "Fuck," she says eloquently.

"Yeah," Jester giggles. "That was a lot, Beau, you were coming for like a minute and a half."

"Only a minute and a half?" Beau's pretty sure she died and came back to life like five times at least in that minute and a half.

Jester's cool lips press soothingly against her forehead. "Don't worry, Beau," she says. "If you are very good and keep listening to me like this I am sure we can make it at least two minutes next time."

Beau certainly looks forward to trying.


End file.
